Revenge of the Babysat
by Kehai-chama
Summary: Wonderful. Haruhi also viewed children at the same level as potatoes.


**A/N:** I swear I'm not dead. My plot bunny has gotten lazy D (and fat). I've written this sometime ago and has been festering in here for a while. This was suppose to be a one-shot but looks like it's going to be a multi-chaptered one. I already have the plot of this all thought out (thanks to xevy : D). All I need to do is finish all my school stuff and I can whip my plot bunny into shape.

Enjoy ;)

P.S. I know I got my title from a Calvin and Hobbes book. So... it originally came from that, okay?

**Disclaimer:** The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya will not be mine... sadly. The character Kenta, however, was my mindbaby.

* * *

**Revenge of the Babysat**

**Chapter One: Enter Kenta**

You know, I've always had the feeling that I was some sort of masochist in my past life. Maybe subconsciously I'm actually enjoying the tumultuous situations Haruhi Suzumiya puts me through.

Hmm… but I digress. And that thought is too creepy to even contemplate. Forget I mentioned it.

You're probably asking what I'm going on about. Well, she did it again. Haruhi dragged me into something that I really didn't want to take part of.

No, it wasn't another idea to make her SOS Brigade a household name nor did she create another Closed Space due to her erratic mode swings.

What she had in store for me was much, much worse.

It all started with a simple phone call... in the wee hours of the morning.

Oh joy.

I picked up my cell phone and greeted the caller blearily.

"Huh?" _Even my eloquence astounds me. _

"Wake up, you lazy bum!" No need to guess who the vivacious voice in the other line was. "Meet me in front of my house, ASAP!"

"H-Haruhi," I yawned. "Why? You didn't schedule another city search today…"

I could practically hear her bristle through the ear piece. "Moron. I know that! This is a completely different matter!"

"Okay, but can you—"

"Don't keep me waiting! Be here or else." _Click. __Busy tone._

I buried my head miserably under my pillow. Couldn't she have given me ten more minutes?!

Thinking back, I was naïve to think that this weekend would resemble an iota of peace away from her. Months in Haruhi's company had taught me that assuming will be your downfall.

"About time you got here!"

_Well, gee. I'm sorry, your majesty._

"Geez, you're even grumpier in the morning." she grabbed my wrist and dragged me inside her house. I'd barely taken my shoes off at the rate she's going. Before I could even blink, the SOS Brigade's chief had already led me into her spacious living room.

"You drink coffee?" I yawned in reply and took a seat on the sofa. "There's some in the kitchen. I'll be right back."

Before I could thank her, Haruhi took off, leaving me to debate whether or not to take a cat nap on the couch.

_Aw, to hell with it._

I grabbed one of the throw pillows and made myself comfortable. I was about to drift off to sleep when I sensed that someone was breathing down my face.

"Haruhi?"

"AHH! INTRUDER!"

That "wake-up call" wouldn't be so bad if a water pistol hadn't squirted me right on the face.

"Kenta! There you are! 'Neechan was looking for you!"

After I wiped my face with the collar of my shirt, I saw Kenta ambling toward Haruhi; brandishing the water pistol at her. He looked **_really _**pleased with himself

"Haruhi-neechan! Haruhi-neechan! I did what you said! Shoot intruders with my ray gun!"

Haruhi grinned and patted Kenta on the head. "You have done well, young Skywalker."

"Ugh... If you're a Jedi," I got up from the couch and peered down at the boy. "Where's your lightsaber?"

"Don't need one!" Kenta stuck out his tongue at me. "I'm in a special rank! Haruhi-neechan said so!"

"That's right," Haruhi ruffled his hair playfully. Huh. Was that a trick of light or did the little brat just blushed? "Use the Force."

_Yare, yare._

"Haruhi," Another yawn escaped me. "now would be a good time to explain why you made me get up from bed at 5 AM."

"Because I'm babysitting."

"I can see that... and?"

"And I need help."

"Oh," Man, my brain was not functioning properly. Those words registered in exactly 3... 2... 1 "WHAT? WHY ME??"

"Well obviously! Because you have experience."_  
_

"But I have a little sister. S-i-s-t-e-r. See? Difference in gender!"

"Geez, Kyon. They're both little kids. What's the difference there?"

Wonderful. Haruhi also viewed children at the same level as potatoes. "If my mom's not home, I'm the one who has to tie my sister's hair!"

"So?"

"Haruhi, little boys and little girls don't have the same needs."

"Well, that's perfect then. The two of you will get along just fine"_ Wait, aren't you supposed to be the babysitter!?_

Kenta, who was quiet throughout the entire argument, tugged impatiently on Haruhi's arm.

"'Neechan, I'm hungry." His growling stomach also concurred with the statement.

"Hmm, me too," she took the boy's hand into hers. "Auntie and Mom said we just need to heat up the food in the fridge. Let's go!"

"Haaaaaaai!"

I thought I could use this opportunity to get that nap I truly deserved while Haruhi wasn't looking. _The sofa! It's calling m_y _name!_

"Kyon," Damn. No such luck apparently. "I did tell you there's coffee in the kitchen, didn't I?"

"Yeah. But--"

"Help yourself... All right?" _So she can be hospitable._

"Hai, hai." Though I had the feeling that she just wanted me to be fully awake and caffeinated in order to do her bidding...

The pungent smell of curry infiltrated my nasal passages when I joined the two of them in the kitchen moments later. Haruhi and Kenta were eating on the counter, engrossed in a rather heated argument on something I rather not try to fathom. My efforts in finding a coffee mug were thwarted when I spotted that there was a plate of curry and a pipping hot cup of coffee on the opposite side of Kenta.

"Huh..." I sat down and and stared at the food. I was wondering who would go through the trouble of fixing this up for me after my 'dear chief' told me that to help myself (which meant I had to serve myself). I shrugged the thought off, silently thanking whoever set this up, and ate with gusto.

"Ne, 'Niichan," Kenta said while poking the curry with his spoon. "Are you Haruhi-neechan's boyfriend?"

I almost choked on my food. "Kenta... how old are you exactly?"

"Five." he grinned.

"Then you shouldn't know these things!" I believe Haruhi was laughing at our conversation.

"Kenta," she gulped her juice before continuing. "Kyon is not a boyfriend. He's my lackey." _If I'm your lackey, then everyone else in the club is a sycophant..._

"'Lackey'?"

"It's someone who has to do everything you say!"

"Like a minion to a supreme overlord?"

"Exactly!"

I decided to keep my mouth shut and eat my curry in peace but Kenta still thought Haruhi's answer to his query was utterly hilarious. The little thing was snickering and mocking me by going, "Hahaha! Lackey! Lackey!"

**SPLAT.**

Well, what do you know. Kenta was using his curry-infested spoon to point at me and my shirt was the lucky recipient of the boy's flinging. Cue the boisterous laughter.

"Oh my god! Kyon---" My dear brigade chief was slamming her fist on the marble surface while our young charge was holding onto the counter for support. "You should see your face --hahahahaha-- It's freaking priceless!"

"I'm sure it is." I stood up and made my way to the sink; hoping I would still be able to wash out the stain.

"Uh huh! 'Niichan looked like a gold fish!" _Where's Sebastian then?_

The tittering died down the same time the yellow color of the curry seemed nonexistent on my shirt. I was finishing my curry and coffee while Haruhi and Kenta cleared their plates away. The lull of conversation worried me though. The silence meant that Haruhi was thinking and that never boded well for me or the world.

"Say Kenta," she said finally while scrubbing the last plate that was in the sink.

"Hmm?"

"Want to go out for ice cream when we're done here?" _Oh great. Just what I needed: two kids whacked out on sugar!_

"You're the best, Haruhi-neechan!" _That's a 'yes'. Unfortunately.  
_


End file.
